


Neighbors

by Lawrievs



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, F/M, I haven't decided yet, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, also minor echo, and lots and lots of banter, just so you know, might have a little clexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:33:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3950776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawrievs/pseuds/Lawrievs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Think what you want of me, Princess,” he says, crossing his arms. “The only thing that matters to me is not finding your fucking pizza boxes near the garbage duct again, so I don’t have to come knocking on your door for the hundredth time.”<br/>“Anything so I don’t have to see your face again.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Amy (bravebellarkes on tumblr, go follow her) for being the best beta ever.

 Clarke is sprawled on the sofa ( _her_ sofa, she hastily reminds herself), hair tied in a messy bun and wearing mismatched socks when someone knocks on the door. She groans, not wanting to get up, and considers simply waiting for the person to get bored and leave her alone. But when the knocks grow more urgent, her responsible side forces her to move her ass off the couch and go answer. She opens the door and immediately regrets her scruffy appearance.

In front of her is a tall and muscular man, tanned face full of little freckles. His hair, black and messy, matches his eyes that look at her with… is that exasperation?

 “Yes?” she manages to say.

“Where’s Raven?” he asks impatiently.

“She’s working, can I get a message?” Clarke says, always the one to show her good manners.

The stranger seems to finally focus on her and his annoyed expression flickers to curiosity.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Clarke, Raven’s new roommate. And you are…?”

“Bellamy, your neighbor. Given that you’re going to be living here let’s make something clear.” He leans on the doorframe, shortening the height difference between them. “As I have the same discussion with Raven every fucking week, let’s hope talking to you solves my problem.”

He inches forward and lowers his voice. Clarke, too stunned to answer, simply stares at him.

“Stop leaving your goddamned pizza boxes next to the garbage duct.”

“What?” she asks, absolutely abashed.

He puckers his lips and looks at the ceiling.

“Look, Princess, I have no idea where you lived before this, but here we’re just a bunch of broke people who don’t have anyone to do stuff for us. So when either you or lazy ass Raven decides you don’t want to leave your boxes on the first floor so the garbage collectors can take them away, there are only two options.“ He raises a finger. “One, they stay there forever,” he raises a second finger. ”Two, I have to pick them up and leave them in the garbage container so this fucking floor doesn’t end up a dump,” he lowers his hand and smirks. “In conclusion: Make my life easier and please take care of your trash. It isn’t too hard to grasp, is it?”

His condescending tone is what takes Clarke out of her stupor.

“First of all,” she spits, mockingly raising a finger. “Don’t call me Princess, my mother gave me a name so people would use it; it’s Clarke. Second of all,“ she stabs Bellamy in the chest with her finger, surprising him and making him take a step backwards. ”You could have told me all this like a normal human being, instead of acting like the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”

Bellamy looks appalled for a second, but he recovers quickly and gives her a crooked smile, full on derisive.

“Think what you want of me, Princess,” he says, crossing his arms. “The only thing that matters to me is not finding your fucking pizza boxes near the garbage duct again, so I don’t have to come knocking on your door for the hundredth time.”

“Anything so I don’t have to see your face again,” counters Clarke with a mocking smile.

Bellamy makes a mock salute and leaves to the apartment right next to hers. Clarke slams the door shut and throws herself face-first into the sofa, where she stays until Raven returns. Her roommate greets her cheerfully, hair tied in her usual ponytail, and her face and clothes stained with grease marks.

“What happened to you?” she asks, thrusting her bag into the couch, just missing the top of Clarke’s head.

“I had a little talk with our neighbor,” Clarke spits out, not even making an attempt to move from where she is.

Raven chuckles. “Bellamy Blake?” Clarke nods and Raven gives an understanding glance. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yes, he is, but why couldn’t you leave the pizza boxes downstairs so he doesn’t come yell at me after?

Raven takes off her t-shirt and uses one of its clean parts to wipe the grease off her face, then proceeds to discard it in the laundry basket next to the bathroom.

“At first I did it to show him I wasn’t afraid of him, you know, gang mentality and shit. But then I realized he was just a stressed out college student with a weird thing for cleanness, so I started to do it to irritate him,” Clarke groans, which just makes Raven stick out her tongue before she continues, “It’s funny, ok?”

“It isn’t when the new girl opens the door without knowing what the hell’s going on, just to end up having a verbal battle with someone she doesn’t even know.”

Raven heads to the small kitchen and opens the fridge.

“So you told him to fuck off?”

Clarke can hear the pride in her voice, which makes her smile.

“Something like that.”

“That’s my girl!” Raven cheers, then proceeds to shout with less enthusiasm, “Hey, we don’t have any food left!”

“What if we go get some pizza?”

Raven snorts.

“It can be our celebration of your first fight with Bellamy Blake! How ironic is that, huh? I think it’s an event worthy of at _least_ a double cheese and pepperoni.”

“But remember, Raven…” Clarke starts saying, dropping her voice a few octaves.

Raven leans against the wall, mocking Bellamy’s nonchalant manner.

“Don’t leave the boxes near the garbage duct or else I will vacuum my apartment till you want to kill yourself.”

“That’s an awful Bellamy Blake impression.”

“Shut up and get your ass off the sofa.”

 

 “Clarke!” Jasper shouts as he enters the apartment and proceeds to wrap her in a hug. He almost hits her with the bottle of wine he has in his hand.

“Wine, Jasper?” Clarke laughs, returning his hug. “Really?”

“Don’t worry,” intervenes Monty, closing the door behind him. He has a big smile on his face, the one he always has when he’s up to something. “It’s just a façade, it has my best batch of moonshine inside.”

Once Jasper releases her, Monty approaches to gawkily hug her and then drops his heavy-looking backpack on the couch.

“Let’s get drunk bitches!” Jasper shouts, and then throws himself next to the backpack.

Clarke’s cat, Anya, who is sleeping on the other side of the sofa, meows indignantly.

“Aw, don’t get mad at me, Anya,” Jasper coos, getting closer to pet her. The cat, having none of it, jumps off the sofa and goes to meow at Clarke.

“My cat hates you, Jasper.” She laughs.

Jasper pouts and makes an attempt to get up, probably to bow to the cat in an effort to regain her favour. Monty is quicker though as he picks her up and starts petting her. She seems completely satisfied with the new turn of events which wins Jasper a mocking smile from Monty.

“What do you have there?” is Raven’s only greeting as she enters the room with four glasses in both hands. Her gaze is fixed on the backpack and her voice exudes distrust.

Monty’s smile widens.

“Jasper, would you do the honors?”

Jaspers jumps off the sofa, bows dramatically and then proceeds to open it and take out… a Wii console. The whole building must’ve heard Raven’s scream of excitement. She sets the glasses on the table with a clatter, and approaches the guys with a face of absolute happiness replacing her usual sarcasm.

“Please tell me you brought Mario Kart.”

Monty reaches for the backpack with the hand that isn’t holding Anya, but Raven takes the game out herself.

“Yes!” she shouts, snatching the console away from Jasper’s hands and running to install it in the TV.

“Someone is going to end up calling the cops, I can feel it.” Clarke says while she pops open the wine/moonshine and pours everyone a glass.

“The welcome to your new apartment deserves nothing less,” is Jasper’s answer as he sits again on the couch.

Monty nods vigorously, choosing to sit on a shabby armchair that Raven had bought at a thrift shop and had seen better days. Anya curls up against him.

Clarke just shakes her head, trying to feign disapproval but failing miserably. She takes a sip of moonshine (with the obligatory grimace) and stands up to go to the kitchen.

“Guess what I made for you,” she says, walking backwards so she can see their reactions.

Their eyes brighten.

“Macaroni and cheese!” they shout at the same time, punching the air in victory.

Clarke laughs and enters the kitchen, just to reappear seconds later with a big pot and four forks. She puts a wooden board over the table and the pot on top, blocking it with her arm so Monty and Jasper don’t start eating.

“Wait for Raven to finish installing the Wii first!” She threatens.

“Fuck Raven, the macaroni is getting cold!” Jasper replies, trying to dodge Clarke and get his fork.

“I’m coming! Five seconds,” Raven calls from the front of the room.

The guys groan and keep trying to evade Clarke, who splits her time between slapping their hands and telling Raven to hurry.

“Ok, ok, you can start.”

She seats herself on the floor and picks up her fork at light speed so she can start eating.

There’s a moment of silence in which the four of them devour as much macaroni as possible, but once the realize there’s enough for everyone (Clarke has learned, by trial and error and all the times she’d cooked her famous macaroni at the guys’ house, to make the perfect amount) they calm down and start talking.

“So tell us Clarke,” Jasper starts, with his mouth full of food. “How has your first week of absolute independence been? Has Raven enslaved you yet?”

Raven punches him in the arm, to which he responds with a squeak of protest. Even though the two of them had known each other for only a few months, anyone would’ve thought they had always been friends. Clarke calls it friendship chemistry.

“Not bad,” she answers with a weak smile, moving her fork around while she talks. “I got a job.”

The expressions of true happiness that appear on her two friends’ faces show how worried they must’ve been for her.

“Why hadn’t you told us?” Monty asks, bouncing on his seat. “How? Where?”

“At a restaurant a few streets down. A friend of Raven’s recommended me, he was friends with the manager. I have to work the breakfast and lunch shifts, and the pay is pretty good, enough for what I need, so I’m satisfied,” she shrugs. “I start on Monday.”

Jasper throws himself at her for a hug, joined shortly by Monty, who jumps from his comfortable spot on the armchair to land on the other two. Meanwhile, Raven takes advantage of this opportunity to eat the biggest amount of macaroni she can at once.

They’re all shouting and laughing when someone knocks on the door.

“Raven, go see who it is!” Clarke shouts.

Raven, with her mouth so full of food she looks like a hamster, shakes her head.

“I’m being crushed by the two boniest beings on the plane,” Clarke begs, her voice sounding strangled.

Raven’s answer is putting more macaroni and cheese in her mouth. The person at the door knocks again, which causes Clarke, now exasperated, to take some extreme measures.

“Get off me or, I swear to god, I’ll _tickle_ you, Monty Green.”

Monty gets up with a jump and an expression of pure panic on his face. He swiftly returns to the armchair where he curls up next to Anya (who reclaims her rightful place just over his chest) and gives Clarke dirty looks. With a sigh, Jasper proceeds to get up too and challenges Raven to a macaroni-eating contest.

“Idiots.” Clarke mumbles as she stands up, hair looking like a nest and her t-shirt crumpled. She hurries to the door and is turning the knob when the person knocks again, startling her. “Jesus, impatient are we?” She says while opening the door, a smile on her face. But it disappears the second she sees who’s standing on the other side.

Bellamy Blake, hollow-eyed, and his expression screaming murder.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” He hisses, voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s probably the fact that my sleep schedule is fucked and now, when I finally have time to sleep, my neighbours decide to have a squealing contest.”

“It’s Friday night.” Clarke replies, frowning.

“Believe it or not, Princess, I know the days of the week, thank you very much.”

“I mean it’s the weekend, Bellamy, we have every right to make as much noise as we please.”

Clarke knows she’s being unreasonable; it’s true they’re being too loud and the walls that separate their apartments aren’t what you would call thick. But there is something in the way Bellamy stands and talks that makes her want to fight him. An urge not even his exhausted face could completely eradicate.

“What you’re doing isn’t just noise, it’s like having an overexcited eight year old constantly screaming in my ear.”

“Wow, I didn’t think anything could surprise me after your fit three days ago, but your ability to act like a complete drama queen sure is exceptional,” Clarke mocks him, challenging him with her eyes and a smile.

Bellamy returns the smile with a scorn not even his exhaustion can hide.

“We’ll see if you think the same after I call the cops.” That’s the last thing he says before turning around and entering his apartment.

Clarke stays in her doorway for a moment, completely furious. It takes her aminute to calm down, and when she finally manages to get back inside she realizes that her friends are silent, watching her.

“What?” she snaps.

“I’ve never seen you yell at anybody like that,” Monty whispers reverently.

“It was so badass,” Jasper corroborates.

That’s what makes Clarke laugh, getting her to relax again.

“And we haven’t even started playing Mario Kart,” she says, dropping on her seat next to Raven and proceeding to eat what’s left in the pot.

“Yeah, well, are going to play or what?” Raven asks impatiently.

The guys nod vigorously, but Clarke hesitates.

“So do you think he’ll really call the cops?”

Raven shakes her head.

“No he won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Her expression suddenly turns serious.

“Trust me, I know his type. The last thing he’ll do is call the cops.”

Clarke doesn’t get what she means by ‘his type’, but she lets it go.

The Mario Kart tournament ends with Raven hitting Jasper with one of the sofa cushions, while Monty cheers and Clarke sits on the floor petting Anya and trying to feign anger, without really succeeding. There’s a lot of screaming, but the police never come.

 

 Clarke is awakened the next morning by a muffled but constant sound coming from the apartment next door. It takes her some time to figure out it’s a vacuum cleaner. She disentangles herself from the sheets and reaches out to grab the clock that’s sitting on her bedside table, so she can check the time.

It’s 6:16 in the morning.

She groans. Anya, snuggled next to her, keeps sleeping soundlessly.

“Who the fuck is vacuuming this early,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes.

The answer doesn’t take long to get through her sleepy brain. The realization comes with a loud groan, this time from anger.

“Are you ok, Clarke?” Raven asks, sticking her head into her room, wearing pyjamas and a towel over her shoulder. “It sounded as if you were dying or something.”

“It’s Bellamy Blake, isn’t it?” she asks, voice still raspy from sleep. “He’s the dickhead that’s vacuuming.”

Raven chuckles.

“Yeah, it’s probably him,” she grabs her hair and twists it until she gets it into a messy bun. “He generally does it later in the morning, but I think today has more to do with revenge than cleaning.”

Clarke looks at her with the highest level of incredulity her sleepy eyes permit.

“And you let him?”

She shrugs and starts walking to the bathroom.

“I have to go to the garage anyways, so it’s not like it bothers me. Besides, I respect what he’s doing.”

“Traitor!” Clarke shouts in response, which only gains her a chuckle from the bathroom.

She tries to go to sleep again, she really does. She tries to be the mature one and end this stupid feud once and for all. But when ten minutes pass and Bellamy keeps vacuuming, her temper wins. She jumps from her bed and, without bothering to change, heads to tell Bellamy Blake exactly what she thinks.

She knocks on the door with all her strength (bruising her hand in the process), just like he had done the last two times he had knocked on hers. There’s no answer, which doesn’t surprise her, taking into account that the sound of the vacuum is deafening. She can’t believe she’s the only one in the building who’s mad at him. She keeps pommeling the door stubbornly until she finally hears the damn machine’s noise stop. A few seconds later, the door opens to make way to a disheveled Bellamy. Also in his pyjamas.

“Yes?” he croons with a smile.

That just manages to make Clarke even madder.

“Would you care to explain what you’re doing vacuuming at six in the morning on a Saturday?” she exclaims with her hands on her hips.

Bellamy leans against the doorframe, frowning slightly feigning confusion.

“Because my apartment is dirty…?”

“Don’t try to be smart, Blake, I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And that is?” his response is a challenge.

“This is your revenge!” Clarke tightens her hands into fists. “Messing with my sleep schedule so I’m as sleep deprived as you are is your fucked up way to make yourself feel better!”

“Wow, you’re a psychiatrist now, Princess?”

Clarke feels her head about to explode.

“I can’t believe you feel the need to wake me and half the building up because of a childish feud.”

Bellamy begins smiling again, but this time it’s a crooked grin that could probably get him laid if the person on the other end of it wasn’t Clarke.

“I think the only one who’s waking up half the building is you with your screams.”

Clarke is a pacifistic person. She has never been one for physical confrontations and she has absolute faith in the resolution of conflict by rational discussion. She is tempted to throw all of that away here and now, just so she can punch her neighbour right in the face. Mostly because there is nothing rational about Bellamy Blake.

“You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met” she hisses.

“I could say the same about you,” he retorts, amused. Apparently, he has gotten exactly what he had been looking for, which makes Clarke feel even more frustrated. “And you know what?” he leans in until only a few inches separate his face from Clarke’s. “I think I’m going to make this early cleaning a habit.”

Clarke doesn’t move. Instead, she holds his gaze and forces herself to compose the most sardonic smirk she can.

“Then I think I’m going to make my Friday reunions a weekly thing too. And who knows? We may add more alcohol to make them more interesting, maybe even some music. Raven loves Nicki Minaj, what do you think about that?”

Bellamy straightens and the smile disappears from his face.

“So this is how it’s going to be, huh?”

“It seems like it.”

“Then there’s nothing left to say.”

And then he slams the door in her face.

Clarke makes an indignant sound and, with the dignity she has left, heads to her own apartment, taking care to shut the door as hard as she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! If you did (and even if you didn't), leave a review to tell me what you think. They are the air I breathe. My sustenance. Help me stay alive.  
> I'm super excited for this fic, I have great things planned. There's more coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all SO much for all the kudos and the reviews, you really made my week. Also a huge thank you to Amy (bravebellarkes.tumblr.com) who is the best beta ever and is the reason this chapter makes sense.  
> Hope you enjoy!

It’s getting dark, the sky that mix of orange and pink it gets when the sun has just set. Clarke plays with her cellphone, leaning against the wall outside a gym while she waits for Raven’s karate class to end. Her roommate has a special talent for always being late, this time seven minutes past the time they agreed. She sighs, surrendering to the fact that she’ll be stuck there a long time. She’s reaching an especially hard part of the level of Geometry Dash she’s playing, when someone suddenly puts their hands on her shoulder and screams in her ear.

“Holy shitballs!” Clarke screams, almost dropping her phone.

Raven starts laughing.

“Holy shitballs? Really? Where did you learn your swear words, Clarke, in middle school?”

Clarke puts her cell in the back pocket of her jeans and punches her friend on the shoulder, but it’s so weak it only makes Raven laugh.

Then she notices a girl next to them, big smile on her face. She’s gorgeous, her long brown hair worn in a series of braids and her eyebrows absolutely perfect. She has a face that looks more fairy-like than human.

“Oh, that’s Octavia, she takes karate with me,” Raven says, noticing Clarke’s dumbfounded expression.

“Nice to meet you!” Octavia says cheerfully.

Clarke recovers quickly and returns the smile, shaking the other girl’s hand.

“You too,” then she frowns at Raven. “Why did you take so long?”

“It’s Octavia’s fault, she delayed me with a story while we were stretching,” she responds, leaning against the wall next to Clarke.

Octavia shakes her head while rolling her eyes, which makes Clarke snort.

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?” she says glaring at Raven. “That’s low and you know it; I can’t get mad at Octavia, I just met her.”

“You know me too well,” Raven laughs. The air is chilly and she’s just in sweats and a worn out t-shirt, so she starts digging through her backpack, probably trying to find a sweater.

“She always makes me wait,” Clarke tells Octavia in a stage whisper, which makes her giggle.

“Are you guys going somewhere?” She asks.

“We’re having dinner to celebrate Clarke’s first day at work,” Raven replies. She finds a cardigan and pulls it over her head. “How was it, by the way?”

“Not bad, a hot guy left me extra tips.”

“I’m not surprised, you must look hot with an apron,” she wiggles her eyebrows, making Clarke laugh. “Did he give you his number?”

“I’m not there to get a boyfriend, Reyes, I spend eight hours locked in there to earn money.”

Raven rolls her eyes.

“Party pooper.”

Octavia laughs again, delighted, and then asks, “Where are you working at, Clarke? Maybe one of these days I’ll swing by so you can give me free food.”

“TonDC, do you know it?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s on the same street as the Thai restaurant we’re eating at later,” Clarke says.

“Oh, I love Thai food,” she says excitedly. “Tell me if the place is any good. I have a map of the city on my dorm room’s wall where I mark all the international food restaurants I’ve been to. My goal is to visit every last one in the city.  You could say I have a bit of an obsession.”

“Don’t you want to come with us?” Clarke asks. She isn’t usually one to invite strangers, but Octavia is Raven’s friend and she seems really nice. How can she resist?

“That’s so nice of you, but I’m actually waiting for Lincoln,” she points to the gym. “He offered me a ride home. Besides, I’ve got a project due the day after tomorrow that has taken over my life.”

“Next time then,” Raven says with a nonchalant gesture.

A huge man exits the building then, heading in their direction. He reaches Octavia and, seeing the other two, nods at them politely. He’s wearing a loose tank top that shows off his well-defined muscles, massive and covered with intricate tattoos Clarke can’t quite decipher.

“Well, this is my ride,” Octavia pats Lincoln’s arm. “It was really nice to meet you, Clarke.” She gives her a smile that lights up her entire face.

Raven and Clarke are silent for a while, watching the pair walk away. Lincoln’s stride is slow, trying to match Octavia’s. He has his hands in his pockets as she skips next to him, making wide gestures when she speaks.

“Aw, they look adorable together,” Clarke finally says.

“I know, right? And they’re not even together,” Raven points out with a sigh.

“What? No way!” Clarke exclaims, turning to look at Raven’s face to make sure she’s not lying.

“It’s true. She’s dating some asshole named Atom,” she says with a bitter tone. “An absolute waste of potential if you ask me. More so because I know for a fact Lincoln is absolutely head over heels for her.”

“Wow that sucks.”

Raven nods, looking ahead, but after a short silence she turns to Clarke again.

“Let’s go eat, I’m starving. Our sensei was a bitch today.”

“You say that literally every week,” Clarke snickers, but starts walking anyways.

The streets are quiet, it’s a Monday after all. They walk through the lit sidewalks side by side, heading to the restaurant. It’s just a few blocks away from the gym, the only reason Clarke agreed to subject herself to the long wait that meeting up with Raven always entails.

“Can I tell you something funny?” Raven says, her shit-eating grin almost convincing Clarke to say no. She goes for the sarcastic approach instead.

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare go third grade teacher on me.”

“It was too good an opportunity to miss,” Clarke laughs. “Ok, Raven, you can tell me.”

“Ugh, this would be so much better if you were drinking something you could spit out for dramatic effect.”

Clarke shoves her with her shoulder, which almost stamps Raven against the wall. The other girl doesn’t shove her back only because Clarke would end up on the street, exposed to passing cars. She tells her so, but Clarke just sticks her tongue out at her.

“Just tell me!” she finally yells, exasperated.

They stop and Raven bites her lip, probably trying to contain a laugh.

“Octavia’s last name…”

“Yes?” Clarke encourages while they wait for the light to turn green.

“Is Blake.”

Clarke looks at her, confused.

“And that’s funny because…”

“Blake as in _Bellamy Blake_ ,” Raven finishes.

Clarke doesn’t move, ignoring the green glare coming from the traffic light. Raven can almost see the gears in her head turning. Finally, her expression turns from blank to incredulous.

“No!” she gasps.

“Yes!” Raven exclaims in glee. “The girl that you liked so much you invited her to dine with us is your archenemy’s sister!”

“He’s not my archenemy, Raven, don’t be ridiculous,” Clarke retorts, noticing at last the blinking pedestrian crossing signal and taking her friend’s arm to force her to cross. “I can’t believe they’re siblings, she’s so nice!”

“It’s not like niceness is genetic, you know.”

Clarke snorts.

“Yeah, but they also look nothing alike.”

“Except that they’re both absolutely gorgeous, you mean?”

“Bellamy’s not gorgeous, he’s…” Clarke tries to say he’s not attractive at all, but not even her hatred can let her utter such an obvious lie. “…above average,” she finishes weakly.

Raven explodes in laughter.

“I knew it! You have the hots for him,” she puts an arm over Clarke’s shoulders, still giggling uncontrollably.

Clarke tries to get rid of her arm.

“Stop it! I don’t have the hots for him, you asshole, I’m just stating a fact,” despite her angry tone, she can’t help but smile.

“Whatever you say, Clarke.” Raven singsongs, her arm refusing to leave her roommate’s shoulders.

That’s when they see the blue lights of the restaurant ahead and hunger makes them hasten their step.

“I’m dying for some Pad Thai,” Clarke says, trying to deflect the conversation.

“God yes,” moans Raven. “I’ve been craving spicy food since last week.”

They spend the rest of the way talking about food and laughing at each other, the topic of hot neighbors completely forgotten. As it should be.

 

They eat so much at the restaurant that the walk back to the apartment seems eternal, both girls drowsy and full from all the food they’ve eaten. The only thing Clarke can think of is her bed. But once they open the door and are ready to throw themselves onto the sofa, Raven swears. There’s a huge pile of books and papers about various math subjects covering its surface.

“For fuck’s sake, I forgot I have a project to start,” she groans, heading to the couch to start sorting out her stuff. “I left all this shit here specifically so I couldn’t avoid it.”

“At least it worked?” Clarke observes, feeling guilty about distracting Raven from her schoolwork.

“Yeah, yeah, I know myself too well,” Raven mumbles with a wearisome gesture. “Well, if I want to make some progress tonight I’m going to have to make coffee. Preferably a lot. Three spoonfuls and four sugars if I don’t want to fall asleep over Moran’s book, because that one’s boring as fuck.”

“Then I’m going to have a cup too,” Clarke says, heading to the kitchen after her roommate.

“Clarke, don’t be stupid, you won’t be able to sleep afterwards,” she admonishes, taking out their coffee can and jar of sugar from a cupboard.

“After three years of med school I’m practically immune to caffeine,” Clarke snorts.

Raven finishes putting an alarming amount of coffee and sugar into her mug and then pours water into the kettle. While she puts it on the stove for it to boil, Clarke takes out a mug for herself and fills it with normal amounts of caffeine and glucose. She’s planning on keeping Raven company, but she fears she’s going to pull an all-nighter. As guilty as she feels, she has work tomorrow and can’t show up looking like a zombie.

“What’s the project for?”

“Thermodynamics,” she answers, staring at the kettle as if that alone could make it boil faster.

“Ugh, sounds awful.”

“It is,” Raven says with a huge smile. “And I love it.”

“Weirdo,” Clarke chuckles.

“You have to be one to be studying mechanical engineering.”

The water isn’t nearly ready, but Raven gets impatient and pulls it out of the fire anyway.

“I don’t know how you do it; going to class, studying, going to karate _and_ working at the garage, all with a fucked up sleeping schedule.” Clarke shakes her head. “It’s crazy.”

The smile disappears from Raven’s face. She’s silent for a second while she pours the hot water into their mugs.

“It isn’t like I have a choice.”

Clarke regrets her words immediately. Raven’s father had never been around and her mother, an alcoholic, never gave a shit about her. She had been accepted into college due to her intellectual merit, of course, but had needed some help from her ex-boyfriend’s family in terms of financial management.

Things have never been easy for her, she’s had to work her ass off to be where she is now. Clarke on the other hand… Well, she had always had everything she needed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she holds the hand of Raven’s that isn’t holding a mug and Raven squeezes hers in return. “It’s just that sometimes you worry me.”

Raven shakes her head, the smile returning.

“Don’t be. If I’m doing all of these things, it’s because I can afford to.”

Clarke looks dubious, but chooses not to say anything. She doesn’t want to argue or ruin the moment with bad memories. Raven has another idea.

“I should be the one worried, you know? _Your_ life has changed an awful lot in the last few weeks.”

This is the conversation Clarke has been dreading since she called Raven a week before classes started, asking her to take her in as her roommate. Maybe it would be more accurate to say she begged. While sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m fine,” she sighs. “It’s different and it will take a while for me to get used to it completely, but I know I made the right decision.”

 “Clarke, nobody would shame you for showing some kind of weakness,” Raven says, eyeing her skeptically.

“The fact that everybody keeps treating me like I was some kind of spoiled princess before is kinda offensive, you know,” Clarke says coldly, thinking of Bellamy.

That’s when Raven loses it.

“But you were!” she ends up yelling, making Clarke flinch. She lowers her voice. “Don’t look at me like that, you were and you know it. Maybe I wouldn’t use such strong words, but you lived in a fucking mansion for fuck’s sake. You come from another life and I admire you for leaving it to do what you love, but it must be hard as hell for you to adjust to a “normal” life. Nobody blames you, Clarke, I’m just saying it like it is. I’m not bitter or anything, you know me and I’m not like that. However, you have to be a little self-aware and realize that you’re allowed to show some weakness.”

Clarke leaves her mug in the sink and starts to walk out of the kitchen, but Raven is faster and grabs her wrist.

“You can run from this conversation now, Clarke, but we’re going to have to have it eventually.”

Raven looks at her, her expression completely serious, voice calm and steady. Clarke’s eyes start to water and she blinks furiously, trying to will the tears away.

“Acting like everything is sunshine and rainbows isn’t going to lead you anywhere,” Raven says softly. “Running from your problems isn’t the answer.”

Clarke gives a shaky sigh, realizing that now is probably the time to get this conversation over with. Raven won’t let it go so easily.

“Okay, you’re right…” she begins, sniffing a little. “It has been hard for me. And I hate that it is.” She realizes that there are still tears threatening to fall down her face, and she focuses on preventing them from falling. The last thing she needs is a complete emotional breakdown. Leaning against the counter and looking at the tiled floor, she exhales slowly. “I miss my old apartment. I miss my _car._ I miss actually having money… God, that was nice.” She looks up at Raven, who is listening intently. “But you know what I miss the most? College. It felt so good being sure of myself and having a purpose… knowing where my life was going. Now I don’t know shit, and you _know_ how much I hate that feeling.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of a control freak,” Raven says with a sad smile, putting her arm around Clarke, who laughs weakly.

“I’m just so frustrated, with me, with my mom, how things turned out… But mostly I-” she gets choked out. “I miss my dad.”

Raven hugs her and starts stroking her hair.

“Oh, Clarke, I know, I’m so sorry.”

That’s when Clarke starts to cry.

“There’s so much I want to tell him,” she sobs, hugging her back. “Sometimes I wonder if he- If he would-” Clarke hesitates, breaking apart from Raven and taking a deep breath. “Do you think he would think I made the right choice?”

“Of course he would,” Raven responds without hesitation.

“After what happened with my mom…” Clarke shakes her head. “I just don’t know anymore.”

Raven puts her hands on Clarke’s shoulders, her expression dead serious.

“I’m no psychologist, but I know your mom is going through some stuff right now and she probably is incapable of seeing past herself. I’m not trying to justify her actions,“ she clarifies quickly. “Not even a bit. She’s being an asshole; you know it, I know it, and she probably knows it too. Still, remember she lost a husband as much as you lost a father. I’m sure she’ll eventually reconsider.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Clarke says quietly.

“Then fuck her, you don’t need her! You’re managing just fine _without_ her, aren’t you?”

Clarke smiles a little.

“I guess I am.”

“Because you’re a strong independent woman who don’t need no mom!” Raven says dramatically, clearly trying to make Clarke laugh. She almost succeeds.

“Thanks, Raven.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. I kinda bullied you into this whole thing so… It’s my fault you ended up crying,” she mumbles, rubbing her neck.

“True, but you were right: I needed to let it out eventually. I’m sorry it had to be when you had to work on your project though.”

Raven’s eyes widen in panic.

“Shit, my project!” she exclaims, desperately opening the cupboard where they keep their mugs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you your coffee. You go design a rocket ship or whatever,” Clarke says, taking the mug from her hand. It’s light blue, with “Raven” written in cursive and a little bird next to it. She made it herself. Clarke smiles when she sees it.

That seems to convince Raven that it’s safe to leave her alone, because she smirks and runs into the living room, scrambling through her papers immediately, looking for God-knows-what.

“Remember to put at least four sugars in it!” she shouts to the kitchen.

“Don’t make me an accomplice for your future high blood sugar!” Clarke counters.

She puts four spoonfuls of it in there anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know there was no Bellamy or Bellarke action, but I promised you a slow burn didn't I? It's in the tags! So you can't say I didn't warn you.  
> He's going to make an appearance next chapter though, so stay tuned! Chapter three is already written and coming soon.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

The days following her talk with Raven, Clarke feels lighter, as if a weight had really been lifted off her shoulders.

That Thursday Clarke is late to leave the restaurant; one of the other waiters had failed to show up so they had more work than usual, trying to cover as many tables as possible and as fast as they could. She is exhausted, but the work is still new and she doesn’t hate it yet. She’s actually thankful for the aching muscles and the tired mind with which she leaves every day; after so much time without doing anything, it gives her a purpose, something she’s been short of lately.

It’s one of those September days where summer refuses to fade, the July warmth from the summertime bringing back memories of sweat-drenched clothes and the stale air of public transportation. Only now the mornings suffer from a coldness that can only be fought back with gloves and hats, leaving its victims helpless when the afternoon heat comes.

Luckily for Clarke, her apartment is just a few blocks away from the restaurant. Enough to make her sweat, yet not too far to make her walk below the scorching sun for too long. She doesn’t think she could have survived taking the bus.

She walks deep in thought, her steps almost automatic. She usually entertains herself by planning what she’ll paint when she gets home, to the point where her fingers start itching for a brush or a pencil. But this time her mind is occupied by less pleasant things.

Maybe her conversation with Raven helped her get some of the poison that was eating her alive out of her system, but at the same time it had risen some worries she had previously been able to ignore by not thinking about them. She had put a plug in certain areas of her thoughts, letting them rot there. But as soon as she took it out to unleash some of those memories, all of them flowed out like an uncontrollable tide. And with them came the anguishing worry about the future.

She had agreed with her mother (grudgingly) that she would take a semester off. Abbie still hopes her daughter will find some closure, clear her head, leave her rebellious act and go back to study pre-med. Clarke hopes her mom will reconsider after she shows her how serious she is about art and that it’s what she wants to spend the rest of her life doing.

If after that her mother still refuses to support Clarke’s dream, she plans to cut her out, ask for a loan and fall into debt like the rest of America’s youth. That possibility scares the shit out of her, but she refuses to set aside her dreams because of fear, or worse, convenience.

She has to prove to her mother that art is more than just a hobby to her and that she can actually make a living off of it. She just hasn’t figured out _how_ to do that yet.

“One step at a time,” Clarke reminds herself, taking out the key to open her building’s front door.

She goes steadily up the stairs despite her fatigue, eager to reach her apartment and throw herself onto anything even remotely resembling a bed. Her building is so old it doesn’t have an elevator, but the rent is too low for them to demand one installed.

At least they live on the third floor; Clarke doesn’t even want to imagine what living on the sixth is like.

She arrives at their landing only a little out of breath, so maybe she’s finally getting used to the daily exercise. She opens the door and greets Raven, who’s lounging in her usual spot on the sofa surrounded by her notes, with a “Honey, I’m home!”

“Clarke!” Raven shouts back, thrusting an enormous book onto the table with such force Bellamy probably hears it next door. “Why are you so late? I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

Clarke drops her bag on the ground and heads to the kitchen to look for something to eat.

“We were short some people today so I had to stay a little longer,” she says from the refrigerator, searching for something edible in between their expired yoghurts and dubious looking leftovers. “And it’s not even that late! Just an hour later than usual.”

“But Clarke, you don’t understand,” Raven whines from the other room. “I’m dying of boredom. I’m sick of reading about Kelvin’s law and the problem of evolution versus the basic law of nature.”

“Of course, Raven, keep talking like I have any clue what you’re saying,” Clarke snorts, finally deciding to go for some bread, butter and ham. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“I can’t, I have to be ready with the theory by today so I can hand it over to my professor tomorrow, if I don’t I’ll never be able to get any work done.”

Clarke sticks her head out the kitchen door for the sole purpose of giving Raven an exasperated look.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“You are my official distraction, I’m only allowed to stop working to talk to you.”

“Allowed by whom?” Clarke asks in confusion while she puts her bread in the toaster.

“By myself.”

Clarke groans.

“Raven, that book is frying your brain.”

“Exactly! That’s why I need you to give me back my sanity!” Raven exclaims dramatically.

Clarke doesn’t deign answer, deciding to place her undivided attention on her food instead. Her toast jumps from the toaster with a ping. It’s too hot, so she takes it out with a fork and puts it on her plate. She’s in the process of spreading butter on the slice of bread when she suddenly remembers something. She sets the knife aside and steps into the living room.

 “Where’s Anya?” she asks her roommate, who has apparently decided to return to her textbook. “I haven’t seen her since I got here.”

The cat generally comes to greet her, rubbing against her legs when she arrives from work while she meows (which probably has more to do with the fact that Clarke’s arrival coincides with her feeding time).

“Me neither,” Raven responds, still reading. “She must be in your room or curled up in the sink… you know how she likes to hang out in weird places.”

Clarke goes to check the bathroom and peaks into her room. Anya isn’t there.

“Raveeen!” she whines, starting to worry.

“Check your room again,” her tone is still casual, oblivious to Clarke’s apprehension.

Clarke let’s out an indignant breath, irritated that she isn’t being taken seriously, but she goes into her room again. It’s not like it’s too big. After checking under her bed and in her closet, she decides to go to Raven’s room. No sign of Anya there either.

“What did you do with my cat?!” Clarke yells, stomping into the living room and making Raven finally lift up her head, alarmed by her tone.

“I didn’t do anything!” She defends herself, setting her book aside and proceeding to sit down.

“Where is she then? She can’t just disappear.”

“You sure you looked everywhere?” Her gaze starts to wander through the room, as if her sight alone is enough to find the cat.

Clarke gives her a murderous look.

“Yeah, because our apartment is so huge a cat could perfectly get lost in it,” her voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Raven’s eyes stop when they land on the kitchen. She stares at it for a bit, like she’s considering something.

“Our kitchen cupboards don’t reach the celining, right? Don’t you think that maybe…?”

Clarke goes to the kitchen immediately and starts to call Anya in a soft whisper. She’s tiptoeing around, trying to see over the cupboards, but she’s too short.

“You’re wasting your time,“ Raven says from the other room. “That damn cat of yours wouldn’t answer to its name even if it were an inch from your face.”

She’s right and Clarke knows it, yet she still keeps calling Anya for a little longer. When it’s clear the cat won’t get out of her hideout, she starts trying to climb the counter. Her black jeans are too tight though; the way she’s lifting her leg in ninety degree is going to rip them.

“Raven, get your ass up from the couch and come help me!” She yells through the open door.

She hears swearing from the living room; nevertheless Raven enters the kitchen a few seconds later. Her annoyed face turns into a huge mocking grin when she sees what Clarke’s trying to do.

“You won’t make it.”

“I know, that’s why I called you; _you_ are the one who’s climbing that counter to rescue my cat,” Clarke dictates after she lowers her leg and faces Raven with a serious expression.

“No fucking way, these counters are like a thousand years old. They’re going to give under my weight, I guarantee it.”

Clarke rolls her eyes.

“You’re a stick with legs, the counters will survive.”

Raven shakes her head vigorously, moving her ponytail like a whip.

“Even if I did, my balance isn’t _that_ good, I’ll fall anyway.”

“I’m going to be down here to catch you.”

“It’s your cat.”

“Which you allowed to get lost among the furniture!” Clarke blurts out, losing her patience.

Apparently Clarke’s words hit the mark, because Raven doesn’t respond, she limits to glare at her and pucker her lips. After a moment’s consideration she swears and puts a leg on the counter with ease. Clarke could attribute that to the fact that she’s wearing sweats, but it probably has more to do with the flexibility that comes with being a blue belt in karate. She starts climbing and is trying to find a way to stand on its surface without splitting her head, when someone knocks on the door.

“Now? Seriously?” Raven spits out, disbelieving.

“Don’t move, don’t even think about climbing farther! I’m going to see who it is and come back immediately.”

“Sure, leave me here!” she shouts as Clarke disappears from the kitchen. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just risking _my_ life for _your_ cat! It’s good to know you have your priorities straight.”

Not letting herself be affected by her roommate’s words, Clarke runs to open the door, yelling a “Coming!” before pulling it open. She finds Bellamy standing on the other side with a stern face and her cat in his hands.

“I think this is yours,” he says, holding out Anya who doesn’t even bother trying to look guilty. She’s too busy trying to get out of Bellamy’s grip.

“Shit!” Clarke swears, accepting her cat and placing her on the floor in the confines of their apartment. “Raven! Stay where you are, I’m getting you down!”

“Hey, I’m not finished with you!” Bellamy yells, but Clarke doesn’t pay attention to him.

She hasn’t even taken two steps toward the kitchen when she hears a “Motherfucker!” and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

“Raven!” she screams, panic seizing her and making her jump over the sofa and the coffee table to reach the kitchen.

Raven is sprawled on the ground, bent over in pain and holding her foot.

“I told you to stay still!” Clarke chides, kneeling next to her.

“That’s _so_ not what you should say when your friend just fell down and probably broke her leg to save your cat,” Raven responds, her voice constrained with pain.

Clarke probes her foot, making Raven yelp and start cursing again. It doesn’t look good, but she forces herself to stay calm.

“Raven, I’m going to need you to take off your sock to check for swelling,” her voice is soft and soothing. “It’s better if you do it yourself, it’ll probably hurt less.”

Raven glares at her, but complies. After a lot of grimacing, she finally manages to take off her sock, leaving her foot’s skin exposed.

“It’s a bit swollen,” Clarke says, frowning. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I think you sprained it.”

“We’ll have to take her to the hospital then.”

That’s Bellamy voice, which startles Clarke. She was so worried she hadn’t realized he’d followed her.

“We’re so lucky to have you then,” Raven scoffs. “Because you both will have to drag me there. There’s no way I can walk.”

“Can you call a cab while I help her get up?” Clarke asks Bellamy.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be offended, Princess, but I’m probably stronger. You call the cab.”

Clarke would like to throw in some sarcastic comment, but a look from Raven stops her. She takes out her cell and looks for the taxi company’s number she knows she has among her contacts. She calls it and gives them their address. She’s about to go looking for Anya so she can feed her when she suddenly remembers what got them into this situation in the first place.

“Bellamy, where did you find Anya?”

“What?” he asks, confused. He had managed to lift Raven up and is now helping her walk to the living room.

“My cat,” Clarke says impatiently.

When he remembers the reason he’s here, his expression turns to anger.

“She was in my apartment,” he says in an annoyed tone. “Don’t ask me how, but your fucking cat appeared in my room, meowing nonstop.”

“Don’t talk about my cat like that!” Clarke can’t help but exclaim.

“I brought her back to you, I can speak of it as I please.”

“Look-“

“Clarke, roommate with a broken leg, remember?” Raven interrupts, raising her voice in exasperation.

This brings Clarke back to reality.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she shakes her head, trying to calm down.

Bellamy doesn’t say anything, just keeps guiding Raven towards the living room’s couch, but at least he has the decency to look a little bit embarrassed. Once he helps her sit down, he turns to Clarke.

“I think we should put a bag of ice or something cold on her foot to take down the swelling.”

Clarke admonishes herself for not thinking of it first. She swallows her anger and just nods before heading to the kitchen.

Anya follows her, probably thinking it’s feeding time. She starts meowing and circling Clarke while she looks in the freezer for something to put on Raven’s foot. She finally settles for a bag of frozen French fries buried between two boxes of ice-cream. She pulls it out of the depths of her freezer with a groan.

“Aha!” she exclaims triumphant, raising the fries in victory.

Anya is still on the ground looking up at her owner, her tail raised pridefully, like she knows she’s the cause of all their problems but doesn’t give a shit.

“Ok, you win,” Clarke whispers, glaring at her as she sets the frozen fries aside. She goes to one of the cupboards and takes out a bag of cat food. That’s when she notices the window next to the sink. It’s open just a little, enough for Anya to go through it, and the window ledge is wide enough for a cat. Taking into account that Bellamy’s apartment is exactly next to theirs, she thinks she’s just solved the mystery of her cat’s escape.

Clarke takes a mental note to tell Raven and then closes it. She opens the cat food bag, takes a handful of pellets, puts them in Anya’s bowl and leaves it on the ground. She starts eating it like she hasn’t tasted anything in a week. Drama queen.

“I should let you starve for what you did today, do you know that?”

Obviously, Anya doesn’t even blink, busy as she is devouring her meal. Clarke sighs, takes the bag of fries, and is about to go join Raven on the couch when her phone rings. The taxi has arrived and is waiting for them downstairs.

“It’s time to go,” she says, entering the living room.

Raven is sprawled across the sofa, injured foot on the table and an expression of absolute concentration. She’s probably trying not to think about the waves of pain in her ankle. Bellamy, on the other hand, is leaning against the wall looking at nothing in particular and visibly uncomfortable.

“Can you help me get Raven down the stairs? Then you’re completely free,” Clarke asks reluctantly.

Bellamy shakes his head and approaches Raven.

“No way you’ll be able to move her to the hospital alone, I’m coming with you.” Clarke starts to feel touched when he taunts: “Besides, then you’ll have a reason to be good to me.”

His lopsided grin makes her want to shorten their distance so she can kick him in the groin, but she decides to go help Raven get up from the couch instead.

“Put an arm around my shoulders and another around Bellamy’s,” Clarke commands.

But their height difference makes balance difficult for Raven, so they spend some time trying to level off in a way that lets them walk together.

“This isn’t working,” Raven states, letting go of the two of them. She balances precariously on her good leg and her piercing brown eyes set on Bellamy. “You: Pick me up.”

He stares at her blankly.

“What?”

“Pick me up. Like I was a princess or a bride, you get what I mean. I know you can and I know you know it’s the only way I’m going to be able to get down those fucking stairs.”

“And what do I do?” Clarke asks, lost and also a little offended.

“You’re moral support,” Raven responds with a commanding voice that admits no contradiction. “And I’m the unfortunate girl who’s lost her dignity so you will do as I say. Come on, Bellamy.”

He hesitates, but Raven’s murderous look seems to convince him. He carefully lifts her up.

It isn’t the ease with which he does it that astounds Clarke; for all of Raven’s attitude, at the end of the day she’s just a short and skinny girl. What takes her by surprise is the gentle way in which he lifts her up. It just doesn't fit her neighbor’s personality. She’s still for a moment, observing his vaguely embarrassed expression and the way he holds Raven, careful not to touch more than he should.

It’s so… weird.

“Clarke?” Raven says, snapping her out of her trance. “The door?”

“What?” Clarke blinks rapidly, processing what’s happening. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

She does as she’s asked and lets them pass, asking herself what the people on the street will think when they see the three of them exit the building. The thought makes her smile while she goes down the stairs, a bag of frozen fries melting in her hand as she listens to Raven complain in Bellamy’s arms.

 

 

The hospital’s waiting room is noisy, so the silence between Bellamy and Clarke isn’t too uncomfortable. There’s a couple of kids shouting and running around the room, another bunch crying and sitting around looking miserable, and a group of parents within various levels of parental competence. All of this added to some old people with wheezing coughs and a little gang of skaters surrounding a teen who has a nasty looking cut.

The whole room’s a mess.

They’d been waiting for at least twenty minutes before Raven got called by a nurse, but once she’d disappeared through the glass doors that separated the waiting room from the ER, the scarce conversation Bellamy and Clarke had been holding had died. It’s been a while since either of them has said anything.

At first Clarke wasn’t bothered by it, entertained as she was by the other people in the room. But now she’s reached the point where not even the skaters’ discussion about whether or not the president of the drama club is banging the captain of the basketball team can distract her. As a matter of fact, it has become the reason she wants to bash her head against the wall.

When she thinks things can’t get worse, _The Little Mermaid_ starts playing on the TV. Clarke moans, startling Bellamy, who until that moment has been staring at the floor with a blank look.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, turning to her.

Clarke points at the television, a little black plasma hanging from the wall opposite them.

“ _The Little Mermaid_ is on.”

Bellamy looks at her, legitimate confusion on his face.

“So what?”

“I hate _The Little Mermaid_ ,” Clarke responds with a sigh, head resting against the wall.

He doesn’t respond, which makes Clarke think he simply returned to staring vacantly into space, but when she turns to look at him she sees him staring at her with an expression of absolute horror.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you don’t like The Little Mermaid,” he says shaking his head. “The Princess doesn’t like Disney’s best princess movie, the irony is killing me,” he adds with derision.

“Wow Bellamy, your wit never ceases to amaze me,” she deadpans.

He continues as if she hadn’t said anything.

“But it’s a classic! Everybody likes it!”

“Well, I never had,” she declares, looking at the TV with a frown. “I’ve always thought it overrated. I’ve never liked Ariel and the plot straight-up upsets me; they deprive her of her voice for half the movie and the few times she actually speaks, she seems downright naive. There’s also the fact that she throws her life away for some guy, what a good role model for little girls!” Clarke finishes sarcastically.

“You missed the entire point of the story,” Bellamy says indignantly. “Everything she does, she does it for _herself,_ not the prince. Yes, maybe her love doesn’t have the most solid foundation, but half of Disney’s movies are built on love at first sight.” He speaks heatedly and gesturing a lot, which Clarke would’ve thought adorable in any other person. “The movie is a celebration of Ariel’s free will; she does everything because she wants to, no matter what she has to sacrifice to get it.”

Clarke looks at him completely bewildered.

“Do you have a master’s degree on _The Little Mermaid_ or something?”

Bellamy seems to realize what he just said and his cheeks start growing dark red. Still, he looks at Clarke with an air of superiority, refusing to back down.

“I watched it a lot with my little sister when we were younger,” he replies. Octavia pops immediately into Clarke’s head, but she decides not to say anything. Bellamy continues, “It isn’t my fault that you don’t understand the movie.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” she stops him with a gesture. “The fact that I don’t share your opinion doesn’t mean I don’t understand it.”

“It’s the only way to explain your dislike for it.”

Clarke snorts.

“Your tolerance is frankly amazing.”

“I can accept anything, Princess, but you talking shit about _The Little Mermaid_ isn’t one of them,” the corner of his mouth points slightly upwards, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Oh yeah? Two words: garbage duct. I’d say your tolerance is non-existent.”

“That’s not fair, there were other factors involved.”

“Like what?” Clarke asks skeptically.

Bellamy shakes his head.

“I’d had a horrible week.”

“Oh, of course, that justifies treating me like shit,” she says bitingly, turning completely in her seat to face him. Bellamy mimics her.

“I don’t have to share my personal problems with you, but yes,” he seems to re-evaluate what he just said and corrects himself. “I mean, I didn’t treat you like shit. I just told you things like they were and you took it badly.”

Clarke raises her eyes to the ceiling in disbelief.

“Do you really think the way you treated me was justified?”

“And are you gonna tell me that the shit Raven and you pulled was?

Neither of them says anything; they just stare at each other for a while, refusing to back down. Finally Bellamy breaks eye contact, directing his gaze to the TV.

“Frankly, I can’t believe you don’t like this fucking movie, it’s precious…” he murmurs.

Clarke doesn’t know if she should laugh or hit him. She straightens and takes out her cell instead. She doesn’t miss the way Bellamy glances her way and then roll his eyes.

“If you start telling me something along the lines of ‘Androids are better than iPhones,’” she starts while looking at the screen of her phone. “I’m going to punch you so hard that all the nurses from the ER will have to come out to drag you inside.”

Bellamy, to her annoyance, starts laughing.

“Wow, touchy, aren’t we?”

“I can perfectly recognize that look of yours now, it clearly states ‘let me say something stupid that makes Clarke want to throw herself out the window’.”

“It flatters me to know you look at me so much that you’re able to recognize my different facial expressions,” he responds with a sideways grin that makes Clarke bury her face in her hands with exasperation. “Anyways, I was just going to comment on your phone case; it’s the most hipster thing I’ve seen in my whole life.”

Clarke’s blush is noticeable through her hands. She’d forgotten she had that phone case on; the one Raven had given her as a joke. It has a galaxy on it with a white triangle in the center, the phrase ‘Good Vibes’ under it. She _could_ tell Bellamy it’s ironic, but somehow she thinks it will only make matters worse.

“Shut up,” is the only thing she manages to say.

“Such eloquence,” he snickers.

Before Clarke has to start thinking on something intelligent to say in response, Raven returns. She’s in a wheelchair pushed by a nurse, with a huge medical boot on her injured foot. Her expression is sour.

Clarke and Bellamy stand up to meet her. The nurse leaves her next to them with a smile, says goodbye and proceeds to go tend to another patient.

“I’m not allowed to move from the house for three days and I have to spend a whole month with this fucking cast on,” she greets them bitterly.

“Hey, it could be worse,” Clarke notes. “You could’ve opened your head from the fall.”

Raven glares at her.

“You know how to cheer a girl up.”

“I do what I can,” Clarke declares, trying to contain a laugh.

“Shall we go?” intervenes Bellamy impatiently, starting to push Raven’s chair. “I hate hospitals and this one makes me particularly sick.”

“Oh, the irony,” Clarke chimes in, which earns her two scowls. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

They go through the hospital’s halls at a quick pace, Bellamy walking in long strides and Clarke fighting to keep up. It’s not her fault her legs are shorter than his and he has apparently no regard for her size.

 “Anyways,” Raven says after a while, her expression serious and clearly uncomfortable. “Thanks for waiting for me. Especially you, Bellamy, you didn’t have to do it.”

Bellamy doesn’t seem too comfortable either, because he shrugs and says nonchalantly:

“I just did it so Octavia wouldn’t kick my ass. She would’ve been furious if she found out you broke your leg next door and I didn’t do anything about it.”

“Sure, it’s just because of that,” Raven teases while looking up to him with a grin. “Admit it, you’re a big softie.”

He just snorts, which makes Clarke laugh and Raven’s smile widen with triumph.

“Yeah, Bellamy is all talk,” Clarke taunts.

They have arrived at the hospital’s exit, so Clarke pulls on one of the big glass doors with some effort to let the other two pass. Bellamy glares at her for her previous comment and Raven gives her a thumbs up while she rolls by. The hot air hits her like a wave when she finally steps outside, making her long for the hospital’s air-conditioning.

“I should’ve gotten rid of you when I had the chance.” Bellamy says, motioning to one of the ramps that reach the street. “Maybe I should take advantage of the opportunity life has given me and just… let you roll over.”

Raven stands too quickly for someone with a sprained ankle.

“Hilarious, Bellamy,” she deadpans while Bellamy hands the wheelchair to one of the hospital’s staff members and returns with a satisfied grin. “You know your life wouldn’t be complete without me, I make everything more interesting,” she continues.

They start to slowly go down the stairs. Clarke is right next to Raven, giving the other girl her shoulder as support and ready to catch her if she were to fall.

“Making my life harder, you mean,” Bellamy says somberly next to them, but then his gaze falls on Clarke and his sideways grin makes a reappearance. “And anyways, I’m not sure you hold that title anymore, you have some pretty solid competition. Maybe your roommate will replace you as my biggest pain in the ass.”

The pain in the ass in question sticks out her tongue at him. His smile widens before he turns his back on her and goes to call a cab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new chapter's finally here yaaay! Extra long to make up for the long wait. My life's kinda crazy at the moment (exams start this Monday so I have lots of studying to do) so it may be a while till the next update... But be patient, because next chapter you'll get a little more Octavia, a glimpse of Clarke and Raven's past and more Bellarke. So stay tuned!  
> (And follow me on tumblr! I'm damnthesebitemarks)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the long wait! It's been an eventful month, but I finally managed to finish this chapter. I'm pretty proud of how it turned out, especially after Amy betaed it. I hope you enjoy it!

Clarke sits in the open, on a table belonging to one of the many coffee shops on campus. She just finished her coffee and is distractedly plays with the empty cup. The weather is colder every day, but it’s still warm enough to be outside with just a jacket on. It feels weird to be on campus without actually being a student; she’s so used to being amongst the group of young adults who run hurriedly from one place to another, carrying piles of heavy books and looking like they haven’t slept in a week.

Midterms start next week (which, in a way, explains the amount of students in their pajamas), so that means this Friday they won’t be meeting on Clarke and Raven’s apartment, like it’s become tradition after that night they got together to celebrate Clarke moved in (and ruining Bellamy’s life). Instead they’ll get together with the guys on campus to eat something, that way nobody can fall on procrastination too long.

As habit, Clarke had arrived early. She’s so used to it that she doesn’t even care anymore; her numerous waits have made her immune to boredom.

She glances to a copse of trees to her left, curiously analysing the changing of color of their leaves, the golden yellow on the tips fading into a dying green closer to the stem. She considers including them in a future project when somebody suddenly calls her name from across the quad. Her head turns in the direction the voice is coming from to find Octavia holding hands with a guy she assumes is the infamous Atom.

“Clarke!” She calls again, beaming. Clarke waves back, which Octavia takes as a signal to come closer. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you or Raven around, how have you been?”

Clarke smiles back. “I’m pretty good, but Raven had a little accident last week.”

“What?!” Octavia exclaims, shocked. “I had no idea, she didn’t tell me anything! What happened?”

“Nothing serious, don’t worry, she broke her ankle, but she’s fine now. Actually, she should be here any minute now, you could take this chance to ask her yourself.” Clarke says with a mischievous smile.

“Excellent idea,” Octavia turns to her boyfriend, who’s spent the entire conversation looking at his cell. “Are you joining us?”

He puts his phone in his pocket and shakes his head. “Nah, I have a project to finish. I’ll call you.” He gives Octavia a quick peck on the lips, nods in Clarke’s direction, and starts walking towards the center of campus. Clarke decides she doesn’t like him at all.

While Clarke is distracted, Octavia slips next to her and starts looking at her expectantly.

“I had no idea you studied here, Clarke. What’s your major?”

“I don’t, actually.” She shrugs, a little uncomfortable.

Octavia bites her lips, looking sheepish. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything… You _did_ tell me you were working as a waitress when we first met, right?”

“Yeah, at TonDC,” she answers, running her hands through her hair. “I hope I don’t do that for the rest of my life though.” She laughs. “I also draw and paint in my free time, and I’m planning to start uploading some of my stuff to the Internet so…” She realizes she’s rambling and mentally reprimands herself. “And well, if things turn out as I hope they will, I’ll be studying art here next semester. But that’s a long story. A complicated one.”

Octavia immediately realizes Clarke doesn’t want to keep talking about it. “Don’t worry, we can talk about something else,” she says quickly, the guilt in her expression quickly replaced by a smile. “Ask me what I do.”

Clarke grins back, visibly relaxing. She prefers to evade the topic of her fucked up family, more so with people she just met. Most of all, because she can’t stand the pity looks she receives.

“What do you do, Octavia?” Clarke asks, humoring her.

“Well, thanks for asking, Clarke,” she responds with a goofy grin. “It’s super interesting. I started with a journalism major, focusing mostly on the writing part, and this semester I’ve decided to do a minor in Gender Studies.”

“It sounds fascinating,” Clarke marvels, genuinely impressed. “Which year are you in?”

“It’s my second year here,” Octavia replies proudly.

“And you already have everything figured out? Wow, you’ve got your shit together.” Clarke is smiling, but she can’t help to feel a little envy too.

“Thanks, I do what I can.” Octavia manages to make a graceful bow, even though she’s still seated.

“All of that _and_ you practice karate, you make me feel inadequate,” Clarke laughs.

“It’s so I can crush the patriarchy physically and figuratively,” Octavia says with a news presenter’s voice, joining her hands over the table and looking at Clarke with absolute seriousness.

Clarke snorts. “I don’t know what you’re doing taking writing classes, you should go directly to the closest news station to fight misogyny and gender roles with your perfect news anchor’s voice.”

“Can it be Channel 7? I’d do _anything_ to be in the same room as their weather guy.” Octavia places her hands under her chin and looks to the sky dreamily.

Clarke lets out a chuckle. “You like him too? He’s the only reason I watch the weather every day, I can’t believe this!”

“We’re soulmates.”

“You bet, bonding over hot weather man.”

“Wow, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear,” Monty says, suddenly appearing behind Clarke. “The beauty of conversations out of context…”

“I’m not even going to try to explain,” Clarke laughs as Monty sits down opposite her, followed shortly by Jasper.

“You should introduce your friend instead,” intervenes Jasper, looking Octavia’s way with a huge grin.

Both of the guys have dark circles under their eyes and look exhausted, but they still manage to seem cheerful. Clarke is about to speak when Octavia beats her to it, offering her hand to Jasper, who’s looking at her with fascination. They introduce themselves to each other while Clarke checks her phone, frowning when she doesn’t find any texts from Raven. It’s probably her leg’s fault, Clarke thinks to herself, so it’ll probably be another few minutes before she arrives.

 “How’s your week been, guys?” Clarke asks, joining the conversation again.

“Not bad,” Monty shrugs.

“Yeah, if I spend another hour in the library I’ll probably throw up, but apart from that everything’s great!” Jasper adds with fake joy.

“Ugh, I understand the sentiment,” Octavia sympathizes. “What’s your major?”

“Jasper is chemistry and I’m biochemistry,” Monty replies.

“Wow, you must spend a lot of time hanging out in the laboratory,” Octavia comments, to which the guys nod vigorously. “Have you made something explode yet?” She asks with enthusiasm.

Clarke snorts while Jasper and Monty exchange a mischievous smile.

“That depends,” Monty starts saying with false casualness. “Do you want the official answer or the truth?”

Octavia looks at them with a mix of horror and amusement.

“Official answer?” She looks at Clarke. “Do I wanna know?”

She shakes her head as the guys grin proudly.

“It’s what we told the dean once the fire department managed to put out the fire,” Jasper can’t help but say.

“Oh, not that story again!” Raven groans. She arrives limping and looking annoyed as hell. “I’ve listened to it a million times by now and every time you tell it differently.”

“Killjoy,” Jasper says under his breath.

Clarke stands up to help Raven sit down, but her friend, proud as she is, only lets her hold her crutches as she jumps with one foot around the table until she finds a safe way to sit. Once she accomplishes it, she buries her head in her hands and sighs tiredly.

“This is exhausting. I’ve spent the day going through campus and after the force I’ve made with my arms, I’ll end up with muscles as big as the ones of a bodybuilder, but with spaghetti legs.”

“Sexy,” Jasper jests, which makes Monty elbow him as he tries to contain his laughter.

“Yes, hilarious,” Raven deadpans, giving them a murderous look. She turns to Clarke and Octavia. “And that’s not even the worst of it, it’s the people; everybody offering to help me and being good to me. It makes me want to hit them with my crutches.”

Clarke laughs. “I’d love to see that.”

“Maybe we could start a TV show,” Jasper suggests. “We put random people in a ring and make Raven beat the shit out of them with those things.”

“You should copyright that idea, dude, that’s gonna be the one that makes us millionaires,” Monty adds.

“Why don’t you start a comedy show instead, huh? Given that you think you’re so funny.” DECIR ALGO CON RAVEN

That makes the guys laugh even louder, which enhances Raven’s annoyed expression. Her face changes completely though when she notices the look Octavia is giving her.

“I think we should be talking about more relevant stuff, like how the hell Raven ended up with a broken foot in the first place,” Octavia says indignantly. “Or, more importantly, why she couldn’t manage to pick up the phone and tell me.”

“Shit,” Raven curses, realizing her mistake.

“Oh yes, shit indeed. And you call yourself a friend?”

Everybody but Raven looks at Octavia, bewildered that someone as tiny and friendly looking as her is capable of such levels of reproach.  

“Hmm, I think I’m going to buy another coffee while you explain everything to Octavia, do you want one?” Clarke asks, ignoring Raven’s betrayed look. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She walks by the guys and gets in between them to whisper. “Don’t let Octavia get a hold of Raven’s crutches or things could get ugly.”

They nod, eyes wide, and proceed to quickly grab a crutch each. Then Clarke starts hastily walking away from the table, but not before giving it one last glance. Raven is gesticulating wildly and Octavia’s expression seems to have softened a little (probably because the story is so pathetic, it’s capable to get to even the toughest of listeners). Meanwhile, Monty and Jasper have engaged in improvised combat using Raven’s crutches as their weapons.

Clarke shakes her head in amusement, smiling as she enters the coffee shop. It’s warm inside, so she takes off her jacket and breathes deeply, enjoying the smell of freshly made coffee. Caffeine may not have any effect on her anymore, but she’s still an addict. She goes into the line, looking distractedly at the menu written in a chalkboard hanging on the wall, trying to decide what to order. Once she has an idea of what she wants, she looks ahead to encounter the back of the head of a tall and familiar figure.

“Bellamy?” she can’t help but ask.

She hasn’t seen her neighbor since Raven’s accident; they haven’t bumped into each other in the hall and they’ve kept their annoying activities to the minimum lately, so they haven’t had any reason to yell at each other either. This fact makes this encounter feel weird; Clarke doesn’t know where she stands with Bellamy.

He turns around, surprised, and stares at her for a second, like he’s trying to process who she is.

“Clarke! Mm… hi,” he says, somewhat awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” she asks without thinking.

He frowns, but looks at her with an amused expression. “I study here, what are _you_ doing here?”

“Oh, um,” Clarke starts to say, feeling stupid. “I came here to meet some friends studying for midterms.”

“Does that mean you won’t keep me awake with your yelling tonight?” He looks hopeful.

“No, but maybe I’ll turn up the TV’s volume just so you don’t feel too alone,” she says with an innocent smile.

Bellamy glares at her, which makes Clarke’s grin widen; this is the banter she’s used to, not that strange camaraderie with which they ended up after the hospital. This she knows how to do.

“Then maybe I’ll decide to vacuum at seven a.m. tomorrow morning, what do you think about that?”

“Ok, no need to get drastic,” Clarke interjects. “Let’s leave in a truce, shall we?”

Bellamy laughs. “You really don’t like waking up early, do you?”

“I hate it. I don’t know how you do it.”

He shrugs and then smirks, passing something from one hand to the other. That makes Clarke notice the huge book he’s carrying.

“What are you reading?” she asks, full of curiosity.

Bellamy lifts the book so she can see the cover.

“A Clash of Kings? Isn’t that one of the Game of Thrones books?”

“The second one,” he clarifies.

“It looks huge! I’ve only seen the show, I don’t have the patience to read that text monstrosities. How many are there, six? Seven?”

He looks at her, scandalised. “Just five. I haven’t watched the show, so I can’t really comment on it, but I bet it isn’t half as good as the books. It’s some kind of general rule.”

“Not always,” Clarke contradicts him, shaking her head, but looking pensive at the same time. “Wait a minute that means you don’t know anything about what’s happening next?”

“Well, I know some things; the series is such a huge part of pop culture it’s impossible to evade spoilers completely.” He’s distracted, his gaze switching between Clarke and the one person that’s separating him from the counter. “I’ve done everything that I can to avoid them though.”

“Reeeaallyy?” drawls Clarke with a playful smile.

Before he can reply, it’s his turn to order. He pays for a tea and once the cashier gives him his receipt, he steps aside. He looks at Clarke then, realizing what she just insinuated, and an expression of absolute horror forms on his face. But she ignores him, busy as she is ordering a skim mocha (for her) and a caramel macchiato with an extra shot (for Raven, she knows she needs it), making small talk with the cashier and saying goodbye with a smile. Once they moveto wait for their drinks, Bellamy grabs Clarke’s shoulder so she looks at him.

“Clarke, if you spoil me, I swear to god…” he starts threatening, but is interrupted by Clarke’s delighted giggles.

“I love this, you know what it means? I have leverage over you.”

“You have nothing.”

“Did you know Jon Snow…?” She doesn’t end the sentence, enjoying how Bellamy’s eyes widen in terror.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he murmurs. “I know there’s some decency in that black heart of yours.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Clarke says, pretending like she’s thing about it. “Every person can be good to you with the right incentive, haven’t you learned anything reading?”

Bellamy makes an exasperated noise and ruffles his own hair with his hand, looking at the ceiling.

“A chai tea for Bellamy!” one of the baristas hollers, giving him his drink with a flirty smile. He thanks her, yet turns to Clarke again.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, but I think I better get out of here before you ruin my reading experience.” He attempts to leave, but Clarke seizes his sleeve, preventing him from going any further.

“But Bellamy, I haven’t even had the chance to tell you about Joffrey…”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” If he could cover his ears he would, but as both his hands are busy holding a book and a cup of tea, he tries covering them with his shoulders. The result is rather ridiculous. “I’m outta here! You’re evil Griffin.”

Clarke is laughing so hard a few people turn to give her strange looks, but she ignores them, still holding Bellamy’s sleeve. “No, I’m just kidding! Don’t worry, I’m not saying anything.” Bellamy’s expression is still distrustful so she makes an effort to stop laughing. “I’m serious, I’m not that mean; I hate spoilers too.”

He chuckles then, his tense demeanour replaced by his trademark attitude, raised eyebrow and leering tone. “So desperate for my company, Princess? I knew you’d finally warm up to me.”

“Yes, yes, don’t get any ideas,” she says rolling her eyes, even though there’s some truth to his words. “I just don’t want to be alone while I wait for my order.” Her mischievous smile returns. “Besides, who would’ve thought it, you’re an excellent distraction.”

“You mean my suffering amuses you.”

“Whatever you like to call it, they’re almost synonyms at this point.”

Bellamy tries to frown, but fails miserably. He takes a sip of his tea to hide his grin.

“I didn’t pin you for a tea person,” Clarke says thoughtfully, as she observes him drink (and lingering a little longer than necessary on his throat).

“Oh, yeah? What do you think would fit my personality?” He asks curiously.

“I don’t know, something like black coffee, bitter like you.” She tries to appear serious, yet her tone is anything but.

Bellamy can’t help but laugh. “Damn you, Princess, I’m not bitter.”

“A skim mocha and a caramel macchiato with an extra shot for Clarke!”

She goes to fetch her drinks, thanks the barista and goes directly to the little table that holds the sugar packages. She takes four.

“Four?” Bellamy exclaims, scandalised. “That can’t be healthy.”

“I know, try to tell Raven that though,” Clarke sighs. “But if I don’t bring them to her she’ll come here herself and take ten.”

“I had forgotten Raven’s obsession with sugar,” Bellamy chuckles while they walk to the exit.

“You were close once, right?”

Bellamy opens the door and lets her pass. “You could say that… Even though she was always more my sister’s friend than mine.”

The way he says it, in past tense, piques Clarke’s curiosity, but she decides to keep quiet. Maybe her relationship with Bellamy has improved, passing from screaming matches to teasing banter, but that doesn’t mean they’re friends. Maybe she should ask Raven.

They stay outside the coffee shop for a moment, staring at each other without knowing what to do.

“I think I should…”

“Yeah, my friends…”

“I have to study and…”

“Sure, sure…” Clarke realizes they are being a pair of idiots and resolves to start talking like a normal person again. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around the building.”

“Or if your friends’ yelling doesn’t let me sleep again,” Bellamy taunts with a lopsided smirk.

“That also,” she says, without being able to stop the smile that spreads across her face. “Good luck studying!”

“Good look with whatever it is you do!” he yells back as he starts walking away.

She rolls her eyes and heads toward her table. As she gets closer, she notices Monty and Jasper staring at her with knowing smiles she doesn’t like one bit. Meanwhile, Raven looks under the table and mumbles something, seeming annoyed, and Octavia is nowhere to be found.

“I brought your sustenance, Raven,” Clarke declares when she reaches them, leaving the two coffees on the table.

“You took your time,” she says, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “O, you can come out, he’s gone.”

Octavia appears from under the table, slightly dishevelled and with and irritated expression that makes Clarke nervous. 

“So you’re friends with my brother?”

Clarke sits down and swallows. “Friendship is a little strong of a word,” she winces. “It’s more like…”

“You’re neighbours that enjoy screaming matches?” Jasper suggests.

“People who torture one another?” Raven interjects.

“Two human beings who disguise their obvious sexual tension by trying to pretend they hate each other?” Monty adds with an innocent smile. Jasper high fives him.

“No,” Clarke denies categorically, but can’t help to blush a little. “We just have a… complicated relationship.”

“Complicated how?” Octavia asks with an amused expression that Clarke doesn’t like at all.

She hesitates. “Let’s say we started out on the wrong foot and are now civilly hostile.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Octavia frowns.

“I think she means that they’ve evolved from trying to rip the other’s head apart and have limited themselves to staring at each other with a mix of hate and confusion,” Raven explains, not helping at all.

Clarke buries her head in her hands while Octavia starts laughing.

“Well, what an interesting turn of events,” she says looking at Clarke with a twinkle in her eyes. “Who would’ve thought you’d hit it off with my dick of a brother.”

“I didn’t ‘hit it off’ with your brother,” Clarke complains, annoyed. “He is kind of a dick though.”

“Cheers to that!” Raven proclaims, raising her coffee.

Clarke regrets her friendship choices.

“Any reason why you were hiding under the table?” She asks Octavia.

She shrugs. “I’ve been avoiding Bellamy for a while now and didn’t want to throw all that effort away.” Her tone is matter of fact, but there’s something in it that makes Clarke abstain from asking any more questions. “Anyways, changing the subject and leaving brother dearest behind, I think it’s time for me to go.” She stands up. “It was really nice to meet you guys, and it was good to see you again, Clarke. And Raven? Start communicating, please.”

“I’ll try to remember,” Raven says with a smile, managing to look only a little taken aback.

Octavia pats her on the head, says a cheerful goodbye, and then starts walking away, not before giving them a wave and a smile. They stay silent for a while, watching her go. It’s Jasper who breaks it with a “Wow, she’s gorgeous.”

“Good luck with that, she’s got a boyfriend,” Raven says with condescendence.

“And a guy that’s like 6’3 with a lot of tattoos is the next in line,” Clarke adds jovially.

 “I think I could take them,” Jasper says, putting his fists in front of his face as he starts to punch the air.

“Sure you could, buddy,” Monty reassures fondly, patting him on the back.

It’s like Jasper deflates. “Why do I always have to like unattainable people?”

“Well, I’m no psychology major, but I think it could have to do with your self-destructive impulses…” Monty starts to say, which makes Raven snort.

They stay like that for a while, teasing one another and talking about literally anything, until everyone but Clarke decides it’s getting late and they have to go back to studying. Once they part ways, Clarke starts walking alone towards her apartment. She’s preparing herself mentally for a night of peace and quiet, given that Raven decided to stay on campus to finish a project.

Clarke sighs, not for the first time feeling like there’s a wall separating her from her friends. It may have been her decision (kind of), but still, she can’t help but miss college. The people, the environment,feeling like she belongs and has a purpose… Things get complicated when you get out of the plan society had prepared for you.

She’s deep in though, reaching campus limits, when a notice board gets her attention. Clarke moves closer to examine it and realizes that there’s a poster pinned up announcing an art competition. It’s a contest for university students from any year, open till December 31st. But that’s not the best of it, the work has to be painted in canvas in any style or material, perfect for her. She keeps reading, feeling herself get excited. “The best 15 works will be part of an exhibition on campus,” it says. “And the first place will win the opportunity to study one semester abroad in Europe, free of any expense.”

Clarke has to do everything in her power to restrain from jumping with delight. This could be the opportunity she’s been waiting for. Just imagining the doors studying art abroad could open to her makes her eyes twinkle, the way it would look in her résumé! And even if she doesn’t win, just being among the finalists would be a way to show her mother a career in the arts isn’t absolutely doomed. That she has talent.

Given that she froze this semester, even though she isn’t attending any classes, she’s still part of the university, so she could still participate, right? She’ll have to look into it, she resolves, determined.

That’s when Clarke decides that maybe there’s still hope for this semester after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF! FLUFF EVERYWHERE! But I promised you more Octavia and Bellarke and I delivered, didn't I? I couldn't resist to get a little GoT in the middle, I started reading the books and I'm OBSSESED.  
> Raven and Clarke's backsotry will have to wait though, in the end it didn't fit with the chapter. But I'll include it eventually so don't despair!  
> Also, please review! Every time you leave one a puppy is born, even if it's just a sentence. So you know, you should start writing. For the puppies.  
> (You can follow me on tumblr if you want, it's damnthesebitemarks.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it! If you did (and even if you didn't), leave a review to tell me what you think. They are the air I breathe. My sustenance. Help me stay alive.  
> I'm super excited for this fic, I have great things planned. There's more coming soon!


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